


Fender

by codewc (orphan_account)



Series: Make Happy [5]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Road Trips, Romance, long distance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2018-10-08 08:36:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10382721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/codewc
Summary: Murdoc tries some steps for this song and dance. Hopefully, Stuart can keep up.(SEQUEL TO EMULATOR)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said I'd be back in April?? Aren't I a liar lol. Finished my exams early! Hopefully, you can forgive me ;o. So here's the next multi-chapter monster for this verse. I'm sorry if the tags/summary isn't that helpful but I don't want to spoil for what is to come next just yet. What I can promise is that Russel and Noodle will appear more this time around! So watch out!!! Please enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc opens up...somewhat.

There was a distance.

It had occurred to Stuart when he had climbed into bed and Murdoc didn’t attempt to touch him. Stuart realized, sitting up in bed at 2 AM, that it had been going on for weeks.

Whenever Stuart had kissed Murdoc, the shorter of the two didn’t press further, and it had made Stuart too shy to be the one to initiate. Cuddling felt too awkward as Murdoc got stiff if Stuart so much so as wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Casual touches felt too forward all the sudden. The last time they had sex, Stuart recalled, was on his birthday. It was already July.

It wasn’t just physical, either. Instead of telling Stuart to shush or tease him when Stuart would go on long ramblings, Murdoc would just give him an odd look and brush him off as if he wasn’t there. It had more than once embarrassed Stuart.

They spend much less time together, too. When Stuart came home, Murdoc wasn’t impatiently waiting with a bottle of beer and a copy of Rolling Stones for Stuart. He came home later, and when Stuart tried to ask where he had been, Murdoc shrugged it off.

Stuart wasn’t much one for confrontation and tried to excuse all of this however he can ( _it had to be about Noodle_  was a thought Stuart repressed often), but that night, when Stuart realized it, he sunk into the bed and wrapped his arms around Murdoc. At first, he was stiff, but he eased into Stuart after a long while. Stuart sniffed Murdoc’s hair. It smelled nice.

* * *

 

The next morning, Murdoc had followed Stuart to the bathroom. He leaned against the doorframe as Stuart brushed his teeth and his fond look filled Stuart with relief. That was until “we need to talk” stuttered out of Murdoc’s mouth. An anxious hold gripped Stuart’s chest. Murdoc looked down and shifted nervously. This was it, Stuart had thought.

 

* * *

 

Murdoc led Stuart to the bed, bizarrely. They laid down, on their backs, and Murdoc continued to fiddle with his fingers. A shy Murdoc. This had been a rare sight for Stuart. He politely waited until Murdoc said “I know you’ve been, uh, wantin’ me to be more honest, yeah?” Stuart blinked, then nodded, hopeful. Murdoc nodded in turn, laces his fingers together. “So, um,” Murdoc sighed, “Christ this embarrassing.” He then turned on his side to face Stuart, a spike of confidence in him. “I do odd jobs around town.” There was a long pause. Stuart cocked his head to the side, waiting for Murdoc to elaborate.

“Okay, so,” Murdoc looked off to the side, “I can never seem to find a steady job. There isn’t exactly a business looking for a Satanist slob with a record. So, a niche like me looks for niche jobs. Chimney work, graveyard maintenance, car bumper theft, etcetera.”

Stuart squinted at Murdoc. “Why were you embarrassed about telling me that?”

Murdoc stayed silent before rolling onto his back and huffed through his nose. “Being a thirty-something without an actual job seeing how you’re slowly stepping up in the working world is embarrassing, alright? Emasculating and all that shite. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a part of me that loves this gig – sex with a babe that pays for everything – but then there’s a part of me that wishes I had enough money to treat you,” Murdoc’s face softened throughout this, but then he furrowed his brow and he scoffed, “jeez, that sounded gay, sorry.”

Stuart felt himself floating. It had become all too obvious, really. He gripped the sheets of the bed – their bed – and decided to take advantage of this honesty. “Is that why you were so distant lately?”

“What?” Murdoc quirked a brow. Stuart looked down at his hands, suddenly felt like he had lost the plot, then Murdoc’s brow shot up. “O-oh yeah. I, uh – usually, for me, the people I see just get sick of me. I guess I just – out of habit. I dunno. L-listen, Stu, don’t think I don’t want this – us – anymore, okay? I’m just not used to…all of this. So, I’m trying new things, like being honest. Like this,“ Murdoc gestured to himself and then looked back at a confused Stuart. “Yikes, am I making sense?”

Stuart let this settle on his shoulders. He understood that Murdoc wasn’t used to long term relationships. And that he assumed that the two of them would end the same – but it wasn’t what he wanted. So, he was…he was trying. Stuart didn’t say anything and just rested himself in Murdoc’s arms. He was really trying.

Laying his head on Murdoc’s chest, Stuart eventually said “thank you for being honest” and Murdoc grunted in reply. “I’m glad you told me this, Murdoc. Really,” Stuart elaborated, “and I don’t care how you make money. You’re not, uh, less of a man or anything. That graveyard thing sounds kinda cool, actually.” Murdoc scoffed at that, before becoming tense again.

“There’s something else,” Murdoc muttered. Stuart lifted his head, said “yeah?” and Murdoc looked as if though he’d been going over what he said one more time in his head. “I got this offer to go on the road with Yekonov – the butcher – and it is a, um, delivery thing. It pays well, but I,” Murdoc paused, glanced at Stuart. “I’d be gone for a few weeks. A month, maybe.”

Stuart froze there, felt his head spin. “Would you be…okay with that?” Stuart felt his heart clench. He’d gone over everything that had been said, too.

He looked up at Murdoc, and mumbled: “yeah, sure.”

This would be what would fix it, Stuart thought. Definitely.

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn’t exactly right.

Conversations returned smoothly (Murdoc openly pissed on his temporary employers, Stuart often choked on his popcorn from laughing at this in the middle of a film they were currently watching). Kissing had become more, er, heated (Stuart left the house half disheveled on the way to work). Sex was still considered too early after Murdoc’s sudden step into expressing himself other than drinking, bitching or distancing himself. And that was it, Stuart thought. That was still the issue they had.

Murdoc was still partly nervous and if Stuart had paid attention, possibly overcompensating a bit for it. But Stuart didn’t notice and carried the worry that Murdoc was just _too_ uncomfortable with this relationship.

Naturally, Stuart had been caught when Murdoc decided to visit his workplace today. “Can we talk? Alone?”

 

* * *

 

 

“What is it, Murdoc?” Stuart said, regretted how harsh that must have sound. Murdoc kicked the ground and bit his lip before looking up at Stuart. His shoulders were slack and Stuart noticed a smile creeping on Murdoc’s face. A knot of nerves crept into Stuart’s stomach.

“Um, could you…pick up some wine on the way back?” Murdoc said hesitantly, and the smile finally split his face. The knots fell loose and Stuart couldn’t help but smile in turn. “…Is that all?” said Stuart, holding back a nervous chuckle.

Murdoc shrugged. “Ha, guess so. I would’ve told you over the phone if it weren’t for that manager of yours. He’s a right old weirdo.” Stuart shook his head, tried to ignore that. “You could’ve just texted me,” Stuart said, well intended. Murdoc sighed. He removed his hand from his pocket weakly. “I know, I just…Stu,” Murdoc reached and rested his hand on Stuart’s cheek. It had been tender and it tightened the knots for Stuart yet again until a loud thud had come from behind them.

The two turn to the door, skeptical. Then, when Stuart turned back to Murdoc, all the worries were present on Murdoc’s face. “Just,” Murdoc said, “bring the wine, yeah? See you at home.”

And he left.

 

* * *

 

 

Stuart had walked in a romantic cliché. The room was low-lit and Stuart could smell perfume. Was that Berlin playing?

“Oh, shit,” he could hear Murdoc say under his breath as he turned the corner and saw Stuart. “You weren’t,” Murdoc began, then scrapped it before straightening his tight black shirt. “Hey,” he said, his hand on his hip. His smooth demeanor didn’t impress Stuart and instead caused him to smile crookedly. “What is this?”

Murdoc gulped, his eyes wide. “I thought,” Murdoc said, moving across the room, “since I’m leaving tomorrow…we could do something nice,” he gestured to, well, the room. Stuart glanced at the bag in his hand. He had completely forgotten that Murdoc was leaving tomorrow. Then, suddenly, his heart felt as if it had blossomed.

“Murdoc,” Stuart said, his voice laced with sweetness, which was interrupted with Murdoc stating, “so I figured we’d bugger each other’s brains out.” Stuart blinked in turn, gripping the bag. He’d been stunned. “Uh,” he drawled, “the wine…?” Murdoc cocked his head to the side before brushing that off. “Oh, ah, I just got you to do that to buy me some time. But you’re here now.”

As Murdoc approached Stuart, Berlin’s _Take My Breath Away_ ’s chorus began. Murdoc gripped Stuart’s collar, smirking up at him. And Stuart thought, he should be horrified, but he couldn’t help but be incredibly turned on as Murdoc pressed a sloppy kiss to his lips. He dropped the bag and grabbed for Murdoc’s waist. The bottle of wine toppled onto the floor.  

“Fuck, Murdoc,” Stuart muttered against Murdoc’s cheek as Murdoc kneaded the front of his pants. His breath. He'd been drinking. Murdoc gasped when Stuart started gnawing at his neck, his fingers shaking while he unzipped the younger’s jeans. “I want you to fuck me, Stuart,” he moaned, then kissed Stuart again. And Stuart kissed him back.  And as they’re snogging, still at the front door, Stuart traced Murdoc’s side until he felt silk. Stuart pulled back, meeting Murdoc’s eyes. “Are those,” Stuart whispered, “are those knickers?”

“ _If only for today, I am unafraid. Take my breath away!”_ Terri Nunn cried through the speakers as Stuart unexpectedly lifted and carried Murdoc to their bedroom.

 

* * *

 

“I’m too old for this,” Murdoc panted. Sweat gleamed on his chest. Stuart was in between his legs. A dick in his ass.

Stuart smiled down at him, twisting the knickers in his fist. He wiped him clean with the pair, puckering kisses along his collarbone. Murdoc hummed, resting his hands behind his head. They could hear a-ha play from the living room and Stuart felt himself bask in the afterglow of two orgasms. That was, until, he caught Murdoc’s soft, maudlin look.

Stuart pressed his forehead to Murdoc’s. “I love you,” Stuart mumbled and Murdoc sniffed. His face was hot. "Miss me with that gay shit, kid,” Murdoc muttered and Stuart could only laugh. They fell asleep chuckling into a kiss and Joy Division echoing throughout the apartment.

 

* * *

 

Stuart woke up alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for totally skipping out on that sex scene ;P


	2. Chapter 2

The first week had gone well. For the most part.

Over the first three days, Stuart had come to hate his bed. He asked himself why he ever thought buying a bed for two was a clever idea for a man living on his own. Oh, wait, space. That must be why sleeping in the middle felt so wrong. That must be why sleeping alone felt wrong.

So, Stuart is twisting and turning three nights in a row instead of sleeping. Side. Back. Stomach. Repeat. 

He vaguely remembers calling Paula on Tuesday (the second day) to ask her to come sleep over, and she just laughed and hung up. He had to work through this back pain on his own, then.

To be frank, bad sleep had certainly not been the possibly worst thing to happen to him in Murdoc’s absence. That would come in the next week.

For now, though, on the weekend of the first week, Stuart is on the kitchen floor with a phone against his ear. Tile floors turned out to be a better alternative for sleep in his mind.

“She joined the karate club of all things,” Russel had said over the phone. “They say she’s a natural, though. But I still don’t feel comfortable with her versus those manga loving 8th graders.” Stuart snorted at this, gradually rolling up his pants leg. Russel had been interrupted by said Noodle, and Stuart sat up straight. “Stu,” her voice was sweet and thick, “it’s going to be July soon.” Stuart’s brow furrowed. The silence had become much too apparent. “...okay?” he mumbled, waiting for her to continue. Noodle sighed, then left the phone. Stuart would’ve felt bad if he wasn’t so incredibly confused.

“What was that about?” Stuart could feel Russel shrug over the phone. “Hm, I don’t know.” Static. “Hey Russ,” Stuart said, embarrassed at how dry his voice sounded, “what’s going on with you?” He scratched his knee. “Like, in your life, I mean.”

“Oh um,” Russel said, sounding surprised. Stuart didn’t grasp how sad that was -Russel being surprised anyone asked about himself. “Nothing much, just…there’s this guy.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“W-what, no,” Russel spluttered, “just a friend from high school. I haven’t seen him in ages and,” shuffling, “maybe there’s something along the lines of, er, dating. I don’t know.”

Stuart smiled despite himself. “That’s great, Russ.”

 

* * *

 

 

Wednesday, second week. Stuart woke up with a headache. It was only about midday that he realized he hadn’t had a headache this bad since way before he had met Murdoc.

He came home exhausted. His head was pounding and he dived into the bed he hated with a groan. His throat was itchy and he could feel his ribs ache. The ceiling turned three distinct colors, and it is not long till he fell asleep without taking off his shoes.

 

* * *

 

 

 The next day his manager told him to go home early. His world really was spinning.

 

* * *

 

 

Paula came to his house uninvited. Stuart could hear plastic bags being settled on the carpet. She eased her way toward him (he was splattered on the couch). She rubbed his back until a cool washed over his head. “Aw, Stu, it’s been ages since you’ve been like this.”

She returned to him with a glass of water and a handful of pills. She shushed him as he sat up, continuing to rub his back. “You’re going to be okay,” she said as he nursed his glass. He nodded. Paula was right. She was usually right.

 

* * *

 

 

Monday, third week.

Murdoc called.

“I knew she’d kick ass,” Murdoc sniggered, and Stuart felt relief bubble in his chest. “And Russel’s got a boyfriend, ey? Knew that fat arse had something up his sleeves.” Stuart pulled his blanket over himself. The bed wasn’t so bad now.

“Why are you being so quiet, babe? You okay?”

Stuart nodded despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. Just…miss you, is all.”

There are beats of silence. “I miss you, too. Just two more to go, okay?”

Stuart pressed his hand to his head and bit his lip. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tuesday, third week.

Murdoc called. Except it wasn’t Murdoc.

“He’s in jail,” Yekonov explained over the phone, “got into a fight.” Stuart’s knees were weak as he gripped the kitchen countertop. “I-is he okay?” Stuart managed to spit out. “Wha-? Yeah, yeah, kid. He’s fine. I’ll bail him out. Just thought I’d let you know since you’re his boyfriend, y’know?”

Stuart felt the wind had been knocked out of him, and he breathes through his nose before he whispered “okay. Thank you for calling.”

 

* * *

 

Stuart honestly tried his best for the rest of the day.

Then he vomited in the restroom.

Luckily nobody noticed.

 

* * *

 

 

He had tried calling Murdoc. Then Yekonov. Then Murdoc again.

Stuart gave up, pacing throughout the apartment until he ultimately climbed back into bed. He cursed himself, telling himself how stupid he had been. He shouldn't complain about the bed. He should act like an adult. He shouldn't be so ungrateful for his job. He should be healthy. He shouldn't be such a drag. He should talk to Noodle more. He shouldn't be so useless. He should be a better boyfriend.

Then he fainted. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
